Happily Ever After
by Danigirl32
Summary: AU Liason fic What happens when Liz Webber moves to Port Charles and meets Jason Morgan...my take on a fairy tale
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own the character's from General Hospital, I just like writing about the.

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Prologue

_**Once Upon A Time...**_

Two brothers lived in an enchanted castle filled with love and laughter.

Okay who are we kidding here?

The Quartermaine mansion was a vipers nest filled with back-stabbing, betrayal and adultery as the favorite sports of it's residents. There was the Grandfather, Edward Quartermaine, who ruled over them all with an iron fist. A brash man, who liked to hear himself speak and expected all who listened to agree and fall in line or else they would be disinherited. Edward was a wealthy businessman and founder of ELQ, the company that he used to jerk the family around. He was a shrewd, calculating bastard and didn't really give a damn what others thought of him.

His lovely wife was adored by all. You had to question this woman's taste in men. Often people wondered how a woman with such grace and kindness could remain with a family of lunatics, but Lila Quartermaine's love and devotion for her brood only endeared her more to everyone who adored her.

The rest of the clan? Well, this is a prologue you know and it would take too long to list the conniving , deceitful, treacherous members. So it's best to skip on along to the good part.

The Black sheep and the Golden Boy.

Hated and Loved. Worthless and Wonderful.

Blah, blah, blah.

No one likes a goody goody. So when Jason Morgan Quartermaine climbed into the car with his drunken brother AJ, let's just say that it was the best thing that ever happened to him. If you can forgive the coma, the amnesia and the brain damage.

He became the protagonist of this tale...Jason Morgan.

No longer good and kind. This new Jason had anger issues. A bad temper. And didn't take shit from the bunch of assholes that he couldn't even remember anyway, so guess what he did? He split! That's right! He turned his back on all that money, and the controlling folks who held the purse strings and went to make a life for himself.

Now that's not to say it was easy. Oh no. First they tried to get him committed. He was brain damaged after all, so what did he know right from wrong? They were only trying to protect him from himself, and anyone else who tried to take advantage of his poor mentally deficient state to get their hands on the Quartermaine millions. They were his family and loved him. He was their Golden Boy!

When that didn't work, well Jason just buried himself in the seedier sides of Port Charles. He made unacceptable friends, and actually, gasp, worked for a living. He didn't wear designer clothes or drive a fancy car. He no longer liked expensive meals and lavish trips to the opera. No, Jason was content in his jeans and t-shirts and those funky shitkickers. He was content with a burger from Kelly's and shooting a game of pool at Jakes.

Good-bye and good-riddens was his motto. There was no way in hell he would ever go back to that smothering life and those smothering people that he couldn't relate to. This was his new life and he was happy. If he only had a few trusted friends, that was fine, fewer people to tell him what to do. If he was often dragged into the PCPD for disorderly conduct, what was a few hundred dollars in fines every so often.

He lived above the bar where he could go down a grab a beer anytime he wanted, he had a good job working security and doing the books over at the Haunted Star, the casino boat his best friend Lucky Spencer owned, and he could take off on his bike and ride for hours anytime he wanted.

Not to mention the women. For some reason, the more he sneered, the more they wanted to fuck him. Go figure?

This was his life and he was happy. Okay he was a grumpy, lonely bastard but he didn't think so.

There wasn't one thing in all of existence that would make him go back...

Yeah, I know, he was just asking for it. Fate's a nasty bitch isn't she?


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

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Chapter One

_**Life is the flower for which love is the honey**_

_-Victor Hugo_

"Stupid piece of junk!"

It was raining. No, it was a thunderstorm, pouring down from the Heavens onto the streets with no mercy for the foolish travelers who had the misfortune to be out tonight. The beat up little blue VW Bug wobbled to a stop, belching up a thick cloud of smoke from the engine and completely shut off.

Elizabeth Webber slammed her fist against the steering wheel then lay back against the headrest to release a frustrated breath. "You hate me," she glanced up at the roof of the car, speaking to the Guardian Angel that she knew often pulled her out of desperate situations. Only it seemed said GA was off duty tonight.

The last thing she wanted was to get out of this car and go out into this storm. It was spring, but the rain was cold so that negated the warm weather. The jeans and t-shirt she wore to work this morning would be drenched in seconds. "I'm just sitting here until tomorrow." She told her GA.

So what if she missed her shift at the hospital, there were other nurses right? She could be forgiven missing work this one time. Did it matter that she had just moved here to Port Charles from Denver just three months ago and _really_ needed this job?

She was fortunate that she found the inexpensive studio to stay in, there was no way she was going to live at her Grandmother's house. Spending summers there during her teen years with her sister Sarah had been trying enough. She and Audrey Hardy had bumped heads so often, it was a wonder that she didn't have a permanent concussion.

Just because she was twenty-eight, Liz didn't think that had changed.

It certainly hadn't changed with her parents. If she had to listen to one more comment on how wonderful her brother and sister were and how disappointing she was, she would have gone insane. She flunked out of art school, that little affair with her professor ending with her calling him a limp dick piece of shit who couldn't keep his pants zipped, probably didn't help either.

Determined to prove her parents wrong, she went to nursing school and found that it wasn't so bad. She had to study her ass off to get good grades, especially when all she wanted was to be locked in a quiet room painting, but eventually she graduated.

Then the next stupid relationship. Sleeping with the son of the chief of staff of the hospital where she worked probably wasn't her wisest decision. Finding him in bed with his best friend Pete and proceeding to beat his ass with his favorite hockey stick was definitely not a good decision.

So when Grams called from Port Charles and told her that they were accepting applications for nurses, Liz figured this was a good opportunity to cut free of Denver and start over. So far things were going well. The job was great. Her studio, though a little small was perfect, especially that sun exposure that was perfect to paint under. She made two new friends that she loved. Sam McCall and Brenda Barrett were the best girlfriends that she ever had. Both were funny, irreverent and Liz knew that she could always count on them. They were the sisters she always wanted.

So until her car conked out on her tonight, everything had been going great for once in her life.

Why had she gone out with that asshole Nikolas Cassadine tonight?

"That's why I'm being punished right?"

He had pestered her all week at work and finally she had given in tonight and agreed to have dinner with him at the little Italian restaurant next to the hospital. What a huge black hole of misery this date had been. Who would have thought such a gorgeous man was such a pompous, stuck up, full of himself, arrogant, conceited, Neanderthal moon dweebie.

First, he had the nerve to comment on her clothes. She hadn't planned to go out after work, so the jeans and the little baby t-shirt were just fine to ride to and from the hospital. She spent most of her time in scrubs anyway. Nikolas had cornered her during her last break and asked her out again for the fifth time. She knew she shouldn't accept and truly had no intention of doing so, but Grams had come along and accepted for her before she could find some way to let him down easy.

She was trying to take a break from men due to her last disastrous relationships, so having her grandmother fix her up was a little embarrassing. Rather than argue, she agreed to the date. It was only a few hours of time, what harm could there have been.

A few hours that she could never get back unfortunately.

First Nikolas complained about the service, then he tried to impress her with his horrible Italian. Good thing she spent that summer in Venice and could speak fluent Italian. The waiter, a nice older gentleman who had looked at Nikolas with a confused expression had smiled generously as she corrected his mistake. She could have been stuck eating boiled octopus in cheese sauce. Just the thought of it was enough to make her shiver in disgust.

Next all he did the rest of the evening was talk about himself and a business deal he was building with a company called ELQ. It wouldn't have been so bad, if he wasn't trying to impress her. It wouldn't have been so bad, if he had actually been interested in something she had to say. It wouldn't have been so bad if she could have poked him in the eye with her fork.

The best part of the night was the amazing shrimp fettuccine alfredo, the wonderful glass of Chardonnay and the laugh she shared withthe waiterover her small order of chocolate hazel nut cake for dessert.

When the evening gratefully ended shortly after nine, she thanked him for the meal, refused the ride home and lied through her teeth about joining him again for another night out. Anything to get away from him and back to the parking lot for her car.

"You really hate me don't you," she asked her GA again, "That's why I'm out here in the rain in the middle of who cares in a broken down car!"

She finished the thought in a shout that turned into a shriek as lightening flashed brightly through the sky, followed seconds later by a loud boom of thunder that shook the little bug. "Okay, okay," she reached over and grabbed her purse from the passenger seat. "I get the message."

She was a big believer in listening when her GA was trying to make a point.

Sliding from the car, giving it a good kick for good measure, she pushed her hair off her face and glanced around trying to get her bearings. Spying the dinky little neon sign, she rushed across the street, dodging puddles and potholes to the sidewalk. Telephone, she told herself. She would go inside this bar, ask for a phone and call Sam or Bren to come pick her up. "Better call Sam," she muttered. Brenda would complain the entire time.

It's raining.

It's wet.

I told you not to buy that piece of shit.

Being a wealthy supermodel, Bren hadn't figured out that poor Liz couldn't afford the gleaming Beamer she suggested. Hell, she couldn't even afford a nice little Honda Civic. The beat up little bug was a steal and it was kind of cute. Sam on the other hand, manager of the Metro Court Hotel, was a little more realistic about her monetary issues. Pulling her out into a rainstorm at, she glanced down at her watch, ten o'clock at night, would be inconvenient but Sam would understand.

Liz jerked open the door of Jakes and stepped inside.

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There was nothing better than a cold beer and a game of pool.

Except maybe a warm woman moving beneath him. So he wasn't picky, the drink and the game were a good way to pass the evening. The rain outside was coming down pretty hard so the bar was practically empty, except for a few regulars that would show up to Jakes in the middle of a hurricane. The only reason he was here was because he lived upstairs in one of the three small apartments.

If anyone from his former life could see him now, they wouldn't have recognized Jason Morgan. Not that it made much difference to him, he couldn't even remember that former life. There were only two people from his past that he cared about.

The first, his Grandmother Lila who died last year. She had always loved him no matter what. It took him a while to be able to appreciate that, but when he finally could, they had a great relationship. Jason knew he could go to her about anything and she wouldn't judge him, wouldn't' tell him what to do or how to live his life.

After her death, he figured that he would be done with the Quartermaines. He hadn't counted on getting to know Monica, his mother. She hadn't pushed, just slowly wormed her way back into his life until before he knew it, he had a Mom again. He still couldn't stand the other Quartermaines, but his mother was cool.

Jason lined up his next shot, a nice little geometrical masterpiece that would bounce the two-ball off a couple of walls before sinking nicely into the right corner pocket. The weather report this morning had suggested a storm was headed toward the city, so he knew he wouldn't have to work tonight. Lucky hadn't believed him. Jason had laughed as he bet his best friend a good fin that they would be unable to take the Haunted Star out onto the water.

Lucky Spencer still hadn't learned never to take a sucker bet despite being the owner of his father's casino. It was a good thing he had him for a business partner. Lucky was the charm and he was the muscle. Lucky had the bright ideas and Jason was the follow through. Best of all, neither liked the same kind of woman and never had to share because the Haunted Star always provided a nice even bounty.

The guests loved Lucky, he was a chip off his father's block. A good thing because Jason would have quietly gone insane if he had to deal with the customers. He liked his job as security for the casino and keeping the books. He could be as antisocial as he liked, in the end it never effected the casino's bottom-line. He was good at his job but he didn't mind the occasional night off for himself.

So here he was fifty dollars richer, partaking in a little eight ball before heading up for the night alone to read his newest John Grisham thriller. He didn't pay much attention when the door to Jake's slammed open, but he sure as hell saw the nice piece that walked in.

She was drenched, that pale pink t-shirt hugged her slender body just right and he could see the bra beneath which cupped a perfect palm full. Those low riding jeans were plastered to her legs, giving him a nice view of legs that could inspire a man. Dark hair fell messily around her face, and she sneered as she pushed it off her face.

A sensual face.

Big blue eyes, a lush mouth and a quick slash of cheekbones and it all called to him. Too bad he wasn't answering tonight. Besides, she wasn't from this part of town. He could see the gleam ofinnocence glowing from that silky skin. Definitely not his type. He picked up his bottle of Heineken and took a long drink watching as she walked to the bar to speak to Coleman.

Whatever she wanted, Coleman couldn't help her, because she frowned and flopped down onto a stool and dropped her head on the bar. He finished up his game, then glanced down at his empty and back to the bar, curiosity getting the best of him he went to get another drink.

"Hey, Coleman," he raised his bottle and the bartender took it from him already reaching down for another and opening it for him. "Thanks man."

"No problem," came the gritty reply, then he nodded to the newbie, "Hey Jase, you've got a phone in your room don't you?"

"No," he answered truthfully, "I have a cell why?"

"Little lady here needs to make a call but the pay phone is broken. why don't you help her out." He wiggled his eyebrows and Jason knew that a phone call wasn't all Coleman was suggesting he help her with.

He looked down at the silent woman and could almost hear his Grandmother's voice in his head telling him to help her. Rolling his eyes in defeat he reached over and tapped her on the shoulder, "Hey?"

He figured she was listening to the conversation, but her head jerked up off the bar as though he had startled her, "What? What's wrong! Page Doctor Drake stat." Jason felt a smile teasing at his mouth but managed to keep his face clear as he stared at her. So she worked over at GH. He remembered hearing Monica mentioning a Doctor Drake, neurosurgeon if he wasn't mistaken.

Her eyes were slightly glazed with confusion, then they cleared rather abruptly a sharp cobalt blue that sent a shiver of awareness down his spine. She frowned as she glanced around then looked down at her purse and back at him. "Oh, you really hate me don't you?" she muttered, "I can't believe I fell asleep in here."

Neither could he, so she must have been dog-tired. "Coleman said you needed a phone."

"What?" her voice nice, a little husky, with just enough sex to make a man wonder what it would sound like while they were in bed together. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

He licked his lips, and watched her eyes follow the movement. "I said, Coleman said you needed to use the phone."

"Phone," she gazed at him a moment longer then it finally registered, "Phone! Yes, a phone," then she frowned slightly, "He said the phone's broken."

Jason reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell, "Here."

"You don't have to do this," she stammered and pushed his hand away.

"Look, you're soaked, it's getting late and you need a phone. I have a phone, use it." He held the phone back out at her and watched the indecision warring on her face. Then she reached out a hand, her fingers closing lightly over his as she accepted. Something flashed through him at the touch of her skin, unfamiliar and just a little unnerving. Her fingers were cold but that didn't detract from the sensation. If anything it made him want to close his hands around hers and warm her.

"Thank you," she murmured, opening the phone to dial a number.

"No problem," he picked up his beer, "I'll be over by the table when you're done." He nodded giving her a little privacy to finish her call.

He was racking up his next set when he felt the tentative tap on his shoulder. When he turned around, she was smiling. "Thank you," she held the phone back out, "I really appreciate you letting me use your phone."

"No problem."

They glanced at each other in silence for a moment, as he ran his eyes over her body, found her nipples tight against the wet fabric and jerked them back up to her face. "Look," he started, his voice a little gruff, "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded, fidgeting slightly.

Jason rubbed a hand over his chin, then walked over to the coat rack and grabbed his jacket off. When he came back and draped the jacket around her, she blinked up at him in surprise, "You looked cold," he lied. Hell if he had to look at those breasts much longer he was going to forget all about his good intentions and drag her up to his room.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. "You don't' strike me as the kind of guy to do something for nothing in return."

"You're right," he agreed. He had no idea why he was being nice to her, there was just something about her that made he want to be kind. "I'm not."

She laughed at that, just a soft chuckle, but it was enough to heat his blood, "well I guess my GA was looking out after all."

"GA?"

"Guardian Angel," she clarified.

"Lady, I'm no Angel."

"No, I don't believe you are," she smiled, then held out her hand, "I'm Elizabeth."

Did he really want to touch her again? He glanced down at her little hand, feeling foolish for the wary feeling and grasped it with his own. He immediately noticed how his hand completely dwarfed hers, but her hand was strong, sure. He liked that. "Jason."

"It's nice to meet you Jason."

"Yeah, you too."

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Liz laughed at the shocked expression on Jason's face as she chalked her pool cue. They had been playing for the past thirty minutes as she waited for Sam to get dressed and come pick her up from the bar. She took another swallow from her beer and leaned over the table to take her shot.

He had suggested a game while she waited, and the first couple of shots, his jacket kept getting in the way. So, Jason had run upstairs and got her a t-shirt to put on over hers and she had to knot it at the waist so that the long material wouldn't hang everywhere.

"Six ball, side pocket," she called her shot and watched him roll his eyes. "You think I can't make it?"

"Beth, if you make that shot, I'll give you twenty dollars."

She tried to ignore the small shimmer of delight at that nickname. When he had called her Elizabeth, she had frowned and told him that her friends called her Liz. He in turn had frowned telling her she didn't look like a Liz. A nymph couldn't be a plain old Liz. Then he said Elizabeth was a mouth full, that he couldn't call her Elizabeth unless she planned to go upstairs and sleep with him.

That had caused a nervous laugh because she couldn't decide if he was serious or not.

Hell she couldn't decide if she would take him up on it or not.

The man was just too gorgeous for words. She had been gawking at him like some silly teenager since the moment he approached her at the bar. Tall, with muscles rippling beneath a black t-shirt, he made her feel all warm and feminine. A broad chest that narrowed down to a lean waist, long legs that she knew were powerful beneath those black jeans he wore. Thick golden brown hair cut short and blunt around a handsome face, eyes a perfect robin's egg blue and his mouth, my, my, his mouth was made for wickedness.

Liz took her impossible shot, sinking the ball neatly into the pocket and burst into laughter at the astonished expression on his face. She gripped the cue in her hand and sauntered over to where he leaned against the wall. "I believe you owe me twenty dollars."

"You're good," he acknowledged softly, looking down into her eyes. "Where'd you learn to play?"

"Little bar in Denver where I grew up," she smiled, "I've been playing since I turned eighteen."

"You've been hustling in bars with that innocent face, Beth?" He leaned down a bit until they were close enough that she could reach up and place her mouth to his if she wanted.

"No," she admitted, feeling her throat dry. They stared at each other, and she could feel her heart pounding in her ears. What the hell was she doing? Hadn't she just sworn off men and now she was about to drown in this guy here and the only thing she knew about him was that he played a good game of pool, enjoyed a Heineken Dark Ale just like she did and was kind to stranded women in bars.

And his name was Jason.

It was a good name, a name meant to be moaned out in passion.

She licked her lips nervously and tried to swallow, but found herself breathless. "I, I," she stammered realizing she had forgotten what on earth they were talking about. One thing she did know, if kept looking at her like that she wasn't going to be responsible for her actions.

She watched as he reached out a hand, closed it lightly on her waist, "What are you doing in here Beth? Don't you know Jake's isn't a place for a woman like you?"

"What does that mean? What kind of woman am I?"

He took a step forward, and she could feel the warmth of his body. If he was this warm and there was less than a foot of distance between him, just imagine what he would feel like skin to skin. Okay, perhaps she shouldn't think about that.

"You're a woman made for," but before he could finish the door to Jake's slammed open.

"Liz?"

She watched in dismay as something flickered across his face, then he took a step back from her. Part of her wanted to grab on to his t-shirt and yank him back. Only he was already gone and the moment had passed. She turned to find Sam in the open door way with an umbrella. She waved her over with a smile and Liz turned back to Jason.

"That's my ride."

"Yes it is," he murmured softly.

They looked at each other again and Liz jerked when she heard Sam call her name again. "I should get going." He nodded once and accepted the pool cue that she held out to him. "Thank you again Jason, it was nice meeting you."

"No problem Beth," a small smile touched his lips, "You be safe."

She nodded once then backed away, picking up her purse from the table to walk to the door. When she turned around at the door, he was still standing there. She waved a hand lightly in farewell, realizing that this was probably the last time she might ever see him.

She didn't like that at all.

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Jason watched the door close behind his blue eyed nymph and shook his head ruefully mocking himself, "You're a woman made for lazy loving in a spring storm, Beth," he finished to the empty bar.


	3. Chapter 2

Hey. Sorry about the delay on this story. Here is an update. I hope to have another soon.

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

Feedback: Yes, please

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**Chapter Two**

"So, Miss Liz here has been keeping secrets. She told us she was going to dinner with the Prince but instead I pick her up at this dive bar on the other side of town hustling a game of pool with a blue eyed god."

Liz barely restrained the bubble of laughter at her friend's words and used the moment to shove the last of her blueberry muffin into her mouth. She sat in Kelly's with Bren and Sam over breakfast, a ritual the three had adopted since meeting here that first time. She usually managed to make it on time unless she was running late for work. Today was good because Sam had picked her up this morning due to her bug's kaput last night.

She still had a few select words for her GA about that.

Brenda had a ten o'clock shoot, so she was dressed down and casual while Sam was crisp and smart in her navy pinstriped Donna Karan pantsuit. She had rushed out in another baby tee, this one in a bright fushia and a pair of white low riding chinos. She would change into her scrubs that were shoved down into her tote at the hospital.

Bren on a perpetual diet picked over half a grapefruit and a bowl of shredded wheat for all of seven seconds before snatching a strip of bacon from Sam's plate like always. Sam on the other hand dove eagerly into her western omlete and wheat toast, usually ordering another half portion so that Bren could have some of her own. This way Brenda could pretend she wasn't eating bad and Sam could eat in peace.

She maintained her favorite muffin and cup of hot chocolate, rich sinful Godiva, that she usually brought in each morning. Mike Corbin, the manager of the little diner was really good about heating up a mug of milk for her. If she was going to have hot chocolate, it only made sense to have the best, right? That first sip that danced dangerously close to ecstasy was worth the monthly splurge.

"See look at her," Sam nudged Brenda with a knowing smirk, "That smile isn't for that cup of cocoa."

"I'll have you know that Godiva is ambrosia," Liz purposely picked up her mug and took a deep swallow. Closing her eyes, she moaned loudly, licking her lips, "Drink of the gods."

"What did I tell you, gods," Sam took a drink from her own cup, coffee black. "Old blue eyes is on someone's mind."

"I don't know what you're talking about. It was a simple game of pool with a nice guy who was kind enough to let me use his phone."

That sounded pathetic even to her ears. The last thing Jason Morgan looked like was a nice guy. Gorgeous. Dangerous. Mouth watering, sure. Nice, not in a kerzillion light years.

Brenda adjusted the dip in the v of her crochette knit dress and pinned her with a glare, "Some guy in a dive bar is the last person you should be thinking about. You went out with Nikolas Cassadine, Liz, now that is a real man."

"A real asshole," she muttered but Sam heard and burst into laughter. At Brenda's huff, Liz felt obligated to explain. When she got to the part about boiled cheese covered octopus both women shrieked with amusement drawing the eye of other customers.

It never failed, when she got together with these two, they were always the focus of attention whether it was intended or not. Both women curvy and sultry could have made her own willowy figure feel really inadequate if she didn't know that neither took things like that seriously.

"Okay, I take that back," Bren wrinkled her nose, "Arrogant jerk is not a good choice but neither is pool boy. If you're looking for a date, I'm sure I can suggest someone more appropriate and less of an asshole."

Not in a million years. Brenda was currently dating Jasper Jax, ego maniac extrodinaire. Dating a man in that class of assholes was out of the question.

"I'm not looking for a date," Liz cleaned her mouth with the napkin and dumped it back into her lap. "I'm not looking for a man. I'm not looking!" she finished loudly, then took a discrete look around and leaned over the table. "Do you not remember my last two relationships?"

"You mean the closet homosexual and the pervy prof who wanted to show all the students his etchings?" Sam wiggled her eyebrows with a grin, "You really know how to pick them Liz."

"Now you see my point," she sighed, "I'm tired of dating right now. All I want to do is work, paint and hang out with you two idiots. With my luck that guy will be a mob enforcer or something."

"I'd play Bonnie to his Clyde," Sam licked her finger, crooked it then made a sizzling noise. "Hubba Hubba."

"Ooh," Brenda's eyes widened as she joined Sam's joke, "He's a Hubba Hubba?"

"Um, hmm," Sam nodded, "It's rare that you get a zing and a Hubba Hubba. A Zing. A Hubba. But never both and never a double."

"Oh shut up," Liz rolled her eyes in mock annoyance.

"No really, this guy had a chest you want to snuggle up against."

"Oh, remember Jagger had one of those," Brenda sighed, reminicing over one of her former lovers. "Great for Sunday mornings. He used to bring me breakfast in bed then we'd fuck like minx."

Liz slapped a hand over her face and stared at her two insane friends between the fingers. Sam on the other hand wasn't ready to let the subject go. "And he had an ass that you want to just," she made squeezing motions with her fingers and giggled. "Charmin."

"You didn't even see his ass," Liz protested.

"No but judging from that look on your face, you saw his ass just fine."

"Aren't you dating Cruz?" Liz felt obligated to point out. "Remember the gorgeous latin detective who took you to Jamaica last month for a two week vacation in the private villa?"

"Hmm," Sam closed her eyes as a look of utter bliss crossed her features. "Aye Poppi." And all three women burst into laughter. They had both heard about the wonderful Cruz Rodrigeuz getaway and the hot sex on the beach in the moonlight sans details. Judging from Sam who walked around on cloud nine for the next weeks afterwards they didn't need to know the details to know that someone got their groove back.

Cruz was exactly what Sam deserved after that disatrous relationship with coffee importer Sonny Corinthos. After breaking her heart, they had all delighted in egging his favorite mazarate. The water in his fuel tank was their personal way of saying fuck you to the cheating adulteror. Imagine, dating Sam for six months without telling her he was still legally married to his estranged wife Lily.

What was worse was the fact that Lily was nice. A member of the hospital charity board, a mother to two children and really sweet, Sam had been appauled to realize she was inadvertently apart of hurting Lily Corinthos.

Cruz on the other hand adored Sam, had no problems with PDA's and most important, no wives former or otherwise waiting in the background.

"No really," Sam reached across the table and grabbed her arm, squeezing briefly, "You know I'm just teasing, right?"

"I know," she smiled.

"But I definitely think you should go after blue eyes. It would be good for you, just a little harmless fun. Besides, I saw the way he was looking at you."

"Was it desert?" Brenda asked around another strip of bacon.

"It was desert, she was oasis and he was ready to strip and dive in," Sam snickered.

There had been a moment. An intense moment when he looked like he wanted to drink her down like a tall cold glass of water but Liz just shrugged it off now. "I'm sticking with my game plan. No men and nothing's going to change my mind."

Not even Jason Morgan and his squeezably enticing ass.

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"What's up, man?"

Jason grunted at the familiar voice as he continued on through his set of reps on the bench press. Most of his mornings started down here at the Elm street gym where he worked out with his best friend and business partner.

The gym was on the seedier side of town, but he didn't mind. There were no women primping in skimpy leotards who seemed to be more interested in picking out husbands than excercising. There were no candy boys who looked like they couldn't squat more than two fifty and didn't know what an actual callus looked like.

_Smith's_ was filled with men mostly like him, wanting to get in sometime on the free weights, maybe go a couple of rounds in the ring in the back room, hit the bag. Overhead was a track if he felt like running a couple of miles and there was even a pool in the basement. He wasn't subjected to that prissy bitch music, instead he could burn some muscle listening to a little Luda' and not have to worry about offending anyone.

"You need a spot?" Lucky stood over him briefly, already sweating in a black muscle t-shirt and baggy shorts. Lucky was probably in the back sparing just now, which was where he was headed after he finished his last circuit.

"No, I'm good," he set the bar down and sat up, wiping sweaty hands on his own grey shorts. He had stripped off his own shirt thirty minutes into his workout. "You headed to the Star after this?"

"Yeah, there's a liquor delivery coming in at ten. Gotta get there before the old man, else he'll swipe the good scotch for his personal stock." It was nothing unusual for Luke Spencer to make himself at home behind the bar, they were used to it. It became a game trying to outsmart the man.

"Before I left last night, I took the reciepts down to the bank. We should be clear on payroll for the next two weeks."

"Good. So, did you go back to Jake's and read after taking my last fifty dollars?" Lucky snorted laughter at his usual nightly activity, never believing he didn't take every woman that hit on him up on their offer of nightly sex.

He refused to think about the little nymph who had occupied his mind for most of the night. Evidently he didn't succeed. "See, I knew it," Lucky laughed, "So what's her name? Was it the blond that came on board the other night, what was her name? Skipper?"

Jason didn't resist the small smirk at his friends sense of humor, "Courtney and hell no, I'd rather fuck a duck."

"Your sexual preferences aside, Corky, Daffy," Lucky chuckled as he began his set of leg presses, "About the same mental intelligence. Besides it's sex, not a life long commitment."

"Did you see her arms in that dress?" Jason shuddered at the muscles that were more masculine than he'd ever allow wrapped around him. "You can keep the fem-bot. Besides she had visions of Quartermaines dancing around in her empty head." He much preferred soft, feminine. Exactly what Beth had been.

"Well if it isn't her, then who? And don't give me that nobody crap."

"Then what are we talking about," because there was no one. Beth was a good girl, he didn't do good girls. Good girls meant commitment and the end of hot wet naked sex up against the shower wall. Nice and soapy while he pounded inside her and she screamed his name out as she came around his dick like a tight fist. Or a quickie on the docks in the dark. Or braced against the hood of a car. And the fact that each one of these fantasies about his blue eyed nymph had played through his head last night meant jack shit.

Good girls eventually started making noises about him moving out of Jake's, where he was very comfortable. Then they wanted to go furniture shopping, though he did have his eye on a black leather couch, but it probably wouldn't fit in his room above the bar. And he wouldn't mind a pool table but that wasn't the point. She would want to move in, she would complain that he needed to get a real job and why wasn't he trying to make amends with his family.

Before he knew it, his motorcycle would be traded in for a Beamer, his leather jacket for wool and the noose around his neck was cutting off the circulation to both his little head and his big one.

"Fine," Lucky shrugged, "You know Emily called me again last night?"

Jason rolled his eyes, "I don't know why you don't just date her, she isn't going to let up on it." He knew his younger sister well and she was determined to date his best friend. She had dug in her heels and was in for the long haul.

Before she went off to California for college, Emily had been sweet, nice. A good kid despite their fucked up family. Emily four years later had turned into a stuck up bitch that he could barely stand to be around. The only time she seemed half way human was when she was around Lucky and that was because she knew Lucky wouldn't tolerate her phony shit.

"So you don't mind me boning your sister?" Lucky asked brutally and Jason had to frown at the mental image.

"Not that it's my business but if you can put up with her, knock yourself out. But could we keep words like boning out of the same sentence? I was actually looking forward to breakfast this morning." Jason took his towel and scrubbed through his damp hair, then draped it around his neck.

"Cool, I'll invite her to the Star tonight. Give her the thirty dollar tour."

Which meant dinner, dancing and comping Emily a couple of grand in chips for the tables. "Is that my cue to stay home for the evening? You know Quartermaines are like roaches, where you see one, there's bound to be others."

"Nah," Lucky laughed at the analogy, "I'll tell her to keep it to herself. Besides, who's going to keep an eye on Milo when Lulu comes aboard making a nuisance of herself."

He actually liked Lulu Spencer. Smart, spunky and cute, Lulu made it her life's mission to antagonize the security guard who had a crush on her. "Lu is just screwing with his head." Jason picked up his water bottle and took several long pulls before putting his hands on his hips. "Besides, she wants a job on the craps table, and the only way she'll learn is if someone trains her. You'll be too busy making eyes at Emily, your father can't be trusted with the till. Max is too nice to her, Milo swallows his tongue everytime he's in the same room with her."

"What would we Spencers do without you," Lucky batted his eyes like a bitch before grinning the trademark Spencer grin.

"You'd go broke and be back to scamming people again," Jason replied dryly. "I'll be down to the boat at noon, I have something to do first."

And he didn't even want to think about why he was going to spend his entire morning fixing his nymph's car. Especially when he'd just finish telling himself that good girls were, to coin Lucky's phrase, clearly in no bone territory.


End file.
